


Let your body be

by looneytails (mixthealphabet)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Break Dance AU, F/M, Friendship, Romance, dance au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-05-26 11:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6236527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixthealphabet/pseuds/looneytails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mirant Curie Louise Dance Academy, aka MIRACULOUS, runs the risk of being shut down, and we all know that nothing brings people together like a common goal.<br/>The close proximity doesn’t hurt, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I can't take the look she's giving

**Author's Note:**

> Starrycove let me use her AU as inspiration and this is how it turned out. Just one of the many versions I have imagined for it. You can find me on tumblr under looneytails.

_Oh, I was a king under your control._

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” the girl yelled. The moonlight shone in her blue eyes, and it was with great regret that Adrien realized they were filled with tears. “This school, it’s important to us! How could you bring them here?”

Adrien hadn’t meant to do this.

Nino had told him about the meet-up and he’d thought it was an interesting idea, just one night away from his father’s controlling presence, from Chloe and her posse.

He’d managed to sneak out of the mansion and into the Mirant Curie Louise Dance Academy, but that was when things started to go wrong.

“I didn’t bring the mayor here!” he tried. Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. The events of the night rushed through his mind; it was difficult to think of what to say when the girl continued to look at him with those eyes. “Chloé was just…”

“Chloé was just _trying to shut us down_!” She wrung her hands, and Adrien had the distinctive impression that she was holding back from hitting him.

Which would be funny coming from a girl with pigtails and a pink crop top with _Princess_ written across it, if it weren’t, well, actually pretty intimidating.

“Chloé is not like that. You don’t understand…”

She interrupted him with a scoff.

“Please, I know Chloé.” She shook her head, lips twisting in what must have been an attempt not to cry. “Nino said you were his friend, but you’re just as bad as her.” One single tear slipped past her controlled fury, making Adrien flinch. “Now they are going to close down MIRACULOUS.”

Adrien took a step forward, but every explanation he could come up turned to ashes under the fire of her gaze.

He hadn’t expected Chloé to follow him here, much less for her to bring her father along. It was just a party, a free invite for dancers to show their style before classes started, so he hadn’t expected for things to turn out that way.

With his track record, he probably should.

The girl continued to stare at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

_I just wanted one night for myself._

_Dance is the only thing I can control, I had to come._

_I’m going to make this right._

She took a deep breath, turning her face away.

“I hope the two of you are happy, now.”

* * *

 

_An hour earlier_

“Dude, you won’t regret coming!” Nino was beaming at him, eyes bright despite the shadow created by his hat. Adrien’s heart beat with the rhythm of the music that streamed from within the hangar. “Welcome…” Nino opened the door behind him, “to MIRACULOUS!”

It was a mess of stroboscopic lights and moving bodies, the kind of thing Adrien had only ever seen in movies. He took a step forward, just in time to be shoved back as a redhead barreled through.

“Nino! You’re late!” She thrust a finger against Nino’s ribs. “You know Marinette needs you for her set.”

The boy rolled his eyes, sending Adrien a look over her shoulder.

“Alya, chill. You know I’d never leave Mari hanging.” He leaned towards her, pecking the girl on her lips. “I was just making sure my man Adrien made it here in one piece.”

Alya turned to Adrien, hands on her hips. She was about his height, but the way she held herself made the blond feel somewhat small.

Then, she smiled.

“You look like you’re about to pass out. Relax, no one is going to bite you.” Alya paused, running her gaze through the crowd. “On second thought, some might, if you’re into that.” She winked.

Adrien choked on his tongue, grateful that in the darkness no one would notice the blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Let him be, girl. He is already nervous as it is,” Nino intervened. “First time dancing.”

Alya lifted an eyebrow at this, inspecting Adrien with newfound interest.

“You have a set, rich boy?” She crossed her arms over her floral cami, defiance settled in the angle of her hips, in the curve of her lips.

Knowing him, Nino was probably going to marry this girl.

“Sort of?” He chuckled. No amount of training could prepare him for a presentation like this, especially when so many of the attendees were actual dance students. “What about you?”

The couple snickered.

“Oh, god, no.” Alya waved a hand in the air. “I love dancing, but I hate performing in public. That’s Mari’s thing, really. Let her have fashion and dance, I’m fine with journalism.” She pointed a thumb towards Nino. “The two of us are with you as outsiders. Mari is the miraculous.”

“I didn’t know the Academy offered fashion courses,” Adrien commented, letting his eyes shift to the dancers.

“Oh, it doesn’t.” Nino shook his head. It would have been hard to miss the affection in his tone.

“Mari goes to ESMOD,” Alya explained. “MIRACULOUS Dance Academy isn’t going all that well, since government started to cut funds and the whole point of it was offering free classes, an opportunity for youth to explore their energy in less violent ways. Mari likes the voluntary work, despite how busy she already is.”

“She is the one who got me to DJ here. Which reminds me… Come, I need to set up.” Nino led them to an emptier area, a stage where two girls with headphones worked on the sound desk.

“Sup, Bubbler?” the pink-haired one greeted, already moving aside. “Brought Wifi and a new guy with you, I see.”

Alya and the girls high-fived.

“These are Alix and Juleka.” Nino pulled his headphones up, then shouted over whatever he was hearing, “You’ll get used to them!”

While Juleka simply glared at Nino, Alix thrust an elbow into his side, then jumped down from the platform.

“I’ll get the crowd started.” Her pink hair and green-accented outfit shone neon in the strobe lights. She gestured for Juleka to hand her a microphone. “Alya, tell your girl to get her ass here. She’s next.”

Moving deeper away from the crowd, Juleka pulled a camera out of her bag, then fixed it to a tripod. “I’ve got you covered,” she told Alya, who nodded, before thanking her as she skipped down and into the mass of people.

“Do you film all of the presentations?”

Adrien hadn’t meant to sound so uncomfortable, but he had good reason to be unsure. The media couldn’t know he was there, or else his father would make it impossible for him to sneak out again.

Juleka smiled at this, unexpectedly comforting for someone who wore fingerless gloves and a choker covered in tacks. “Just Marinette’s. It’s for Alya, so don’t tell her.”

“The academy has no authorization for this kind of event, so we can’t use it as merch. City council would shut us down for good, if they knew.” Alix hummed her agreement, leaning back against the stage. “Alya is trying to push an article about MIRACULOUS, but her newsroom thinks they need an angle apart from the whole funding shebang. So,” she waved towards the camera, “ballet.”

Adrien blinked at her, then blinked some more. “Ballet?”

Juleka nodded once. Alix turned on her microphone.

“What’s up, Miraculous?” she shouted to the crowd. As she moved forward, people took steps back, clearing the floor. “Are y’all ready for this?”

Cheers erupted from the audience, and a girl in a pink top and short shorts erupted from their midst, tripping into the dance floor. She had ballet shoes on, a blush on her cheeks and pigtails, of all things.

She was also kind of really cute.

Alix looked at him over her shoulder, a smirk playing on her lips, microphone still on. “Are you ready for this?”

* * *

_Cut cover, take that test. Hold courage to your chest._

Adrien had never seen anyone dance like this. It wasn’t ballet, exactly, but a mixture of the genre that probably fell more into contemporary dancing than anything. The technical training, however, shone through the arches the girl made, the gracefulness of her pirouettes.

He had a feeling he would love MIRACULOUS Academy, if only he had the chance to attend it.

_Don't wanna wait for you, don't wanna have to lose all that I compromised to feel another high. I've got to keep it down tonight._

His cell was vibrating against his tight, but Adrien couldn’t bring himself to check it. The energy around him was different from anything he had ever experienced. The anonymity was refreshing, even if limited in its duration.

The song seemed to seep into his muscles, jostling him into action, and he wasn’t the only one affected. Around him, others were dancing too, encompassed by the movements of the girl, who continued her set even as the cheers grew louder.

By the time the presentation had ended, his cellphone had stopped ringing.

For some reason, as soon as he realized this, Adrien felt dread settle in his stomach. He took out the device, hurrying to see who had been so insistent in reaching him.

Chloé Bourgeois.

“Nino, I think I need to go,” he shouted to his friend, who still had his headphones on.

“Man, what?” Nino replied, eyebrows creased in confusion.

Adrien showed him his phone.

“I always take calls when I’m home, which is where I’m supposed to be right now. If she went over and I wasn’t there, then called and I didn’t answer, I’m afraid Chloé might do something –” The music died down as fluorescent lights flooded the hangar. “Do something harsh.”

And there, on the other side of the crowd, stood the mayor of Paris and his daughter, surrounded by a dozen policemen.

“Hello, Adrien.” Chloé flipped her hair, all smiles, then fixed her eyes somewhere else. He followed her gaze to the dancer, the girl with the pigtails. “Hello, Marinette. It is a _pleasure_ to see you here.”

Her laughter still rang in Adrien’s ears, even hours after, as he laid in bed, staring at his ceiling.

_I’m going to make this right._


	2. Don't be so hard on yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little rain to wipe away misconceptions.

_I'll recover if you keep me alive. Don't leave me behind._

“Dude, is this your super villain origin?” Nino poked at his arm with a pen. “You gotta tell me if this is your super villain origin.”

Adrien groaned, turning his head on the tabletop so he could better glare at his best friend. The classroom was empty, except for them, as classes had finished for the day. A good thing, given the blond boy’s moping.

“You’re overly invested in this,” he complained. Eraser powder was getting on his hair, but that was the least of his concerns when his inability to handle Chloé had resulted in the closing of an Academy on which people depended. “I would never tell you if I became a super villain.”

Nino scoffed, attention diverted to spinning the pen in his hand. “You totally would.”

Adrien smiled. He totally would.

“Ok, whatever. You need to help me with this.” He sat up straight, shaking his hair into a less disorganized mess. “We need a plan to help MIRACULOUS.”

“We _had_ a plan,” Nino pointed out. He looked at Adrien, then grimaced; he hadn’t meant to sound like he was assigning responsibility, but he was also very bad at not being blunt. “I mean, no one blames you, really, we were all risking it just by being there.”

This was something that Adrien appreciated about his friend, the way he was always calm, even when terrible things had happened. He was unruffled by the little things, a one-eighty to Adrien’s level-headedness during strenuous circumstances and complete lack of chill for other things.

“That girl, Marinette, blames me.”

Nino sighed.

“She was just upset. I told you, she put a lot of work into MIRACULOUS.” He fiddled with his headphone. “I’ve known her since middle school, and she was already in the academy by then.”

With a groan, Adrien threw his head back, running a hand through his hair to get the eraser powder out of it.

“So not only did I close down the place she trained, but it was also part of her childhood?” His laugh was bittersweet, at best. “This is why I don’t have any friends.”

Nino let out a choked noise of indignation. “What am I? Chewed gum?”

Adrien rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips; it softened the sadness of his expression. Not for the first time, he was glad to have Nino in his life.

They had known each other for so long now that a life without his best friend was almost unimaginable. Often, Adrien wondered if he would have turned out like Chloé, had he not met Nino at that arcade, five years ago.

Adrien couldn’t find it in himself to really reproach Chloé for her actions. She was egotistical and cruel, but he supposed those were the consequences of her loneliness. He just wished she would grow out of it, already.

“You’re a good dude, Adrien.” Nino stood up and grabbed his things. “And I’m here for your angsty bulshit, but I need food.”

Adrien conceded to his friend’s request. He hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, a result of an afternoon of meetings, and it was starting to weight on his stomach. He could almost feel a headache coming.

“It’s not angst. I just don’t know what to do. The mayor said he isn’t against keeping MIRACULOUS open, but the fine plus their debt amounts to a hundred thousand euros.” They crossed the corridor towards the uni’s main entrance. “I thought about paying it myself, but my father threatened to freeze my accounts. And you know my personal account has nowhere near that much money.”

Nino shrugged.

“I don’t mean to sound like a quitter, but maybe it was for the best.” At Adrien’s frown, he put his hands up defensively. “No, hear me out, the academy was great, but it was going down. More underworld dance club than school. They would need a lot of good publicity to get things right again.”

They had reached the steps of the university. Students still loitered around, talking among themselves, unpreoccupied in their daily routines.

Adrien envied them.

“Publicity, you say?” They swirled around to see Alya, her hair in a high ponytail. “I can work with that.”

Nino shook his head, but the grin that emerged on his face spoke of his true feelings.

Adrien envied them, as well.

“Hey babe,” Nino said, leaning forward to peck her on the lips. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Alya laughed against his lips and pushed Nino back. The look she sent Adrien was of light-hearted aggravation.

“I came to see if you wanted to grab dinner, but I see you have plans.” She reached towards Adrien, hugging him quickly. “I see you once and then you’re everywhere, rich boy.”

Nino snickered. “Is that nickname gonna catch?”

Adrien groaned. “God, I hope not.”

But Alya’s attention was no longer on them. She had pulled out her cellphone and was now scrolling through something.

“So, publicity.” She passed the device to Nino. “Is that all it takes for us to reopen MIRACULOUS?”

Adrien tried to catch his friend’s eye, but Nino was busy with whatever Alya had found. “Hm, no. The mayor says the city can’t provide enough money to cover their usual expenses, on top of the academy’s debt.”

She hummed. “How much money are we talking about?”

“One hundred thousand, minimum.” He watched as Alya turned to smirk at Nino, who chuckled through his stunned expression.

“You are a genius,” Nino breathed out.

“I _am_ a genius,” Alya agreed, taking back her cell. “And I’m forcing Mari to have dinner with me, so I can tell her the good news.”

“Be honest,” Nino put an arm around Adrien’s shoulders, “how dead to her is this guy?”

Alya continued to smile down at her cell. “Oh, six feet deep.”

The two nodded in amusement, much to Adrien’s frustration. He was in no mood to deal with their teasing. His father was threatening to limit his free time and resources, his next photo-shoot was scheduled for the same day as his Applied Nuclear Physics midterm and a girl he barely knew apparently hated his guts.

Instead of saying anything, however, he followed the couple to the café around the corner.

* * *

Adrien couldn’t say he was surprised by Marinette’s reaction to his presence.

She’d entered the café with a smile on her face, lips colored a soft pink. Her hair was so dark it was almost blue and the ends curved inwards, framing her face.

As soon as he tried to meet her eyes, Marinette turned away in a huff.

So, yeah, six feet deep.

Nino clicked his tongue at this, watching as Marinette and Alya sat down by the counter. Adrien glared at him.

“Ok, that’s enough.” Nino pushed Adrien into a booth, face suddenly serious. “If you want to make friends, you gotta tell Marinette the truth.”

“Do you think she will forgive me?” the blond asked, trying to peek through his friend’s head to see the girls.

“No idea.” Nino lifted a hand to call the waiter. “But she won’t ever talk to you if you don’t try.”

Adrien heaved a sigh. “You’re the worst best friend there is.”

“No,” Nino smirked, “I’m the best friend who’s getting you out of this mess.” He paused. “With credits to my genius girlfriend, of course.”

He slid his cellphone across the table.

The screen displayed some kind of advertisement; the silhouette of a man mid-pose, calling challengers for a break dancing contest.

“The winning crew gets one hundred and fifty thousand euros and a tour around France.” Nino leaned over the table, dark eyes flashing. “Money and publicity.”

Instantly, Adrien knew what his friend was getting at.

“No way!” he exclaimed, pushing the cell back to Nino. “My father would kill me. And you, for suggesting it.”

The boy didn’t seem discouraged. “What the old man doesn’t know, he can’t forbid.” He tapped the screen twice. “This is your chance. Live a little.”

Adrien grimaced. “The last time you said that, I got Chloé tracking my phone to the academy. I’m a model, Nino. I don’t have the luxury of anonymity.”

This sparked something in his friend, because his eyes widened in excitement.

“Anonymity! That’s how you’ll get into the competition!”

He blinked at Nino’s outburst. “That’s ridiculous.”

Before the other could reply, the waiter moved to their booth, ready to take their orders.

* * *

“Give me some time to think about it,” Adrien conceded, tiredness etching into his tone. His eyes trailed to where Alya stood, already waiting for Nino. Marinette had left a moment before to take a call, but the two had already said their goodbyes.

“You have two days, dude!” Nino warned. “Do not let me down!”

Adrien waved him off, laughing as he went in for a hug. “I won’t.”

“ _And_ it’s raining. Great,” Alya said as she neared them. “I’m crashing at your place, Nino. There’s no way I’m walking five blocks in this rain.”

“You guys could always grab a ride with me. The car will be here any minute now.”

“That’s sweet, Adrien, but I just really want to get out of this work clothes.” She looped her arm through Nino’s, pulling him towards the door. “See you later!”

Around him, the rush of dinner started to wind down as people got up to go home. Adrien checked his phone one more time and decided to wait outside, so the staff could get on with the cleanup.

Right out the door stood Marinette, her flowing midi skirt a spot of green against the light grey of the café. She stared out into the night sky, unaware of his presence.

He realized that this might have been a set up for his apology, with how quickly Nino and Alya had left.

Adrien opened his umbrella.

“I wanted you to know that I really didn’t mean to bring Chloé to the party,” he tried, watching through the corner of his eye as her posture tensed. “I’m being honest. I don’t get a lot of free nights, with the modelling and all.” He turned to look at her. “I just wanted… I don’t know. One night for myself, to meet people,” he hesitated, “to make friends. I– I don’t have many of those.”

In the dark, it was difficult to distinguish her features, but he knew he’d caught her attention.

“That’s not what Chloé said.” Her voice sounded different like this, softer. Still, Adrien cringed at her words.

“I don’t know why she would tell you that, but it’s been a while since I last understood a lot of her actions.” He sighed. “I am sorry, Marinette.”

A car pulled up to the curb and, through the tinted window, Adrien saw the Gorilla wave him over.

“Okay,” Marinette said, nodding once. “I believe you.”

Adrien couldn’t help himself, he smiled. Without thinking too much about it, he extended the umbrella until it covered her.

“Take it,” he offered, unable to keep the relief from his tone.

Marinette looked up at him, cautious, before grabbing the umbrella. Lightning flashed above them, illuminating her eyes in a startling burst of blue. Adrien felt his chest tighten at the sight.

Then, the umbrella closed over her.

He tried to hold in his laughter, but it burst out of his clamped mouth, shaking him entirely. Marinette straightened herself, but soon followed.

The gorilla honked.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” he spoke around his grin.

“I…” Marinette took a step forward, as if to hug him, then seemed to rethink her actions. “Y-yeah. See you.”

As the car drove off, Adrien found himself watching the girl walk down the steps and disappear around the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a very musicly oriented fic, because that's just who I am. So, yeah, Years & Years will show up a lot. The chapter title is a song by Jess Glynne.  
> I hope that's ok.


	3. I care what you think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decisions are made and Chat Noir is created.  
> Also known as the moment when Adrien decided to fight for what he wanted.

_Take shelter, take the pressure. Do what you want tonight. It's alright if you want to get used, then get used._

For two days, this was how things went: Adrien would ignore that he had ever promised Nino anything and, consequently, this promise was everything Nino could talk about. It led them to an impasse, because there were only so many times Adrien could fake oblivion before someone lost their temper.

Not shockingly, this someone was Alya.

“I have no idea what is going on between you two,” she exclaimed during dinner of the second day. “I don’t really care! I’m already stressed enough with trying to find people to sign up for the contest. I don’t need whatever this is.”

Adrien had the sense to look sheepish.

He didn’t know a lot about Alya, but it was more than clear that she didn’t appreciate disrespect, and, in their hushed bickering, Adrien feared that was exactly how their actions were perceived.

“Seriously, Adrien,” Nino leaned over the table, ignoring his girlfriend’s exasperated huff, “what are you so afraid of?”

Adrien didn’t have it in him to scowl back. He didn’t have an exact answer. He was afraid of his father, of the disappointment in his eyes every time Adrien stepped one toe out of line. He was afraid of the consequences of his rebellion, of the anger and the prohibitions that would ensue.

Gabriel Agreste wasn’t a bad man, per say, but he was difficult. He had dedicated his life to his work and, in the process, lost the woman he’d loved. Adrien frequently felt the need to justify his father’s actions by associating them with protectiveness or the fear of being left once more.

Still, not even he could ignore the negligence that marked his childhood and teen years.

“Of so much, Nino,” Adrien breathed out, after a moment.

He knew he could do this. He had years of dancing alone in his room, then with Nino, years of ballet for posture and discipline, piano for coordination and rhythm. He could do this.

As always, however, there stood his father’s shadow, draped over him as a constant reminder of the paths he was allowed to take. There had never been a choice for Adrien; he was the son and heir, and his actions reflected back at the company.

No Agreste should be caught dead in a hangar during the early hours of the morning.

Alya frowned at his obvious inner turmoil. “Ok, this went from zero to sixty way too fast, I need context.”

“Just some shit with his father.” The look on Nino’s eyes was apologetic. “I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Adrien shook his head, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You were trying to help. I don’t usually mind, but this is just…”

Different. Nino knew it, too. It was what Adrien wanted to do, maybe not as a career, but as a part of his life that his picture-perfect image didn’t allow.

They fist-bumped, to the amusement of a very aggravated Alya.

“That’s done, then,” she said, sighing tiredly. “Just in time, too, cause look who’s here.”

Marinette bustled through the crowd, her arms full of fabric. People around her complained as she tried to squeeze her way to the booth and even her stuttered apologies seemed to do nothing to gain their sympathy.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she exclaimed as she dropped into a seat. The tubes of fabric spilled across her lap. “I had class, then they needed me in the atelier, then I had to meet my advisor...”

Alya laughed, pulling Marinette into a sideways hug.

“You need coffee,” the journalist pointed towards the counter, “and maybe a crepe.”

Marinette laid her head on Alya’s shoulder. Her hair was once again loose, but straighter than before. Adrien thought it was a good look on her.

“I need so much coffee,” she muttered against Alya’s blouse.

Nino chuckled, pushing his plate across the table and into Marinette’s reach. “Grab a fry. Me and Adrien will get your order. Caramel latte and a burger, right?”

Marinette straightened up in a hurry, as if she’d just noticed them.

“Nino, Adrien, hi!” She blinked at them, eyes wide. “S-Sorry, I’m so out of it! Burger, yes! I-I would like that.”

Alya smiled as the two boys got up. She chose to ignore their confusion and focused on Marinette, who had buried her face in her hands.

The line to order wasn’t long, but Nino didn’t need much incentive to resume their previous conversation.

“I’m sorry for earlier, dude.” He adjusted his cap, uncomfortable. “But you’re good, you know you are. And this could save the academy.”

Adrien already knew this. It had been in his mind for the last couple of days, the possibility of pretending to be someone else and using that as a way to escape his father’s control. The idea lit him up from inside, a flame of hope in the midst of the frustration of his daily life.

And that’s what it all came down to, wasn’t it? He wanted to do it.

“Okay,” he acquiesced.

Nino turned to look at him, brows furrowed. “Okay?”

Adrien let out a chuckle, breathless as he was. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Nino’s lips pulled into a grin, which soon turned into a startled laugh. “This is gonna be great, dude!”

His delight was contagious. Adrien pushed him forward as the line moved, but couldn’t stop his own smile.

“How are we doing this, anyway?”

The glint in Nino’s eyes told Adrien that his friend had already thought of it all and, touching as it was, this fact gave him no comfort.

“We are doing this with a little help.” Before Adrien could question this, however, the DJ’s attention shifted elsewhere. “On the subject of help… I love that girl,” Nino commented as they approached the counter, “but she is spreading herself too thin.”

He was looking at Alya and Marinette.

“You mean with school?”

Nino shrugged. “I don’t even know. She’s always been busy with projects and whatever, but this is too much.”

Adrien looked over his shoulder to their booth, where Alya was running her hands through Marinette’s hair as the girl herself gesticulated wildly.

Her lipstick was red, today.

She had probably fixed it before joining them, because there was no way she could have rushed through the day and still be able to keep her make-up as such.

The attendant greeted them with a smile and if Nino noticed Adrien had been staring at Marinette, he didn’t say anything.

* * *

They parted soon after and Nino apologized to Alya with a long kiss, muttering against her lips that they would see each other later.

Marinette blushed at their exchange, a reaction to which Adrien could relate.

It was a shame they couldn’t stay, but Nino had been emphatic about how much preparation they would need before his debut in a week and it wasn’t often that Adrien had time to himself.

The girls didn’t seem awfully upset about it. Marinette was still unable to meet his eyes, for some reason, and constantly looked down at her hands.

Alya was less shy, but Adrien could tell she had something she wished to discuss with Marinette in private. She tapped her nails against the tabletop, anxious even as she complained to Nino that he owed her dinner.

“I think you should take the fifty grand for yourself, if you win,” Nino said, the café’s door closing behind him.

Adrien had not been expecting that.

“What? Why?” He faltered, stopped to consider the proposition, then asked once more, “why?”

Nino glanced at him as they walked. “You still want to get into that physics program, right?” Adrien nodded. “And you have the scholarship…”

They’d had this conversation several times before, too.

“Yeah, but my father wants me to keep modelling. The only reason I’m still in college is that I’ve managed to study around my work schedule.” Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ve gone through this.”

“Dude, your contract ends next month, you’re already of legal age. The worst he can do is cut you off,” Nino stated, waving a hand in the air, as if waiting for Adrien to catch up. “How can you be so smart and so stupid at the same time? That’s a gift.”

Adrien glared at him.

It wasn’t that he didn’t get what Nino was trying to say. With the prize money and his own savings, he probably could afford to break relations with his father, but was that what he wanted? As bad as their interactions sometimes were, actually losing his dad seemed… impossible.

And, in some ways, inevitable.

“I’m just saying,” Nino continued. “The money would come in handy and, if you don’t win, you could always move in with me and do some modelling gigs to keep afloat.”

“Oh…” The grin on Adrien’s face made a grimace appear on Nino’s. “Are you saying that I would be the _model_ roommate?”

Nino groaned. “That was weak, even for you.”

“Ok, ok, sorry,” Adrien said as they rounded a corner. “I just wasn’t able to _picture_ it clearly, I promise next time I’ll think before I _shoot_.”

Nino’s complaints dragged on, but Adrien knew better than to take them to heart. The subject died down with the resurgence of his puns and they talked of lighter things as they walked, preferring this amenable companionship to another fight.

“Where are we going, exactly?” Adrien asked as they entered Nino’s neighborhood.

“You need clothes, my man,” his friend answered, pulling out his keys and his cellphone. “I asked Jules to meet us here. She has mad skills with a brush.”

Adrien frowned. “Why do we need a brush?”

Instead of responding, Nino opened the door to his building and pulled Adrien in.

Juleka was already inside. She carried a thick briefcase and a bright pink backpack that was clearly not hers. It made Adrien wonder how many people were in on this already and why he apparently wasn’t one of them.

“I heard you’re rebelling against your dad,” she said, breaking the silence. “That’s rad.”

“Hm,” Adrien chanced a look around, trying to figure out how she’d gotten into the building, “thanks?”

“Jules knows all about controlling parents,” Nino remarked as he directed the two towards the stairs.

Juleka nodded at Adrien’s inquisitive gaze.

“How did you handle it?”

The girl smirked and it was such a satisfied, almost haughty smirk that, for some reason, it only accented the way her purple-tipped strands framed her pale complexion.

“You’re looking at it,” Juleka replied, moving past him and into Nino’s apartment.

The DJ flung his bad to the couch and turned to face Adrien, arms crossed in thought.

“I’m thinking a tattoo up his neck, maybe a brow piercing.” Nino ignored Adrien’s spluttering in favor of looking at Juleka.

The girl shrugged. “A theme, first?” she proposed, her voice rough and serious despite the amusement that shone through her eyes.

Before the two could continue to disregard him, Adrien decided to intervene.

“I can’t get a tattoo,” he hurried to say. “Or a piercing, for that matter. Why would I even–?”

Nino raised a hand to shut him up. “Dude, not real ones. For this persona. Your face is pretty recognizable, we need something to throw people off. Also, a name.”

Adrien settled onto the couch. “We could always go with Felix.”

Even if not all that good, the suggestion was worth it just for the affronted look in Nino’s face.

“ _Your cat_?” He exhaled heavily. “Adrien, my man, _no_. That was a horrible name to begin with.”

“What would you suggest, _Bubbler_?”

Adrien and Nino glared at each other, only to be distracted by a hum from Juleka.

“We could use the cat theme, though.” She sifted through the backpack, pulling out a couple jackets. “Rose sometimes brings props from the theater, when they are gonna throw them out.” She lifted one of them, showcasing the cat years that picket out from the hood.

“A black cat?” Nino shifted to inspect the jacket. “I like it.”

Adrien chuckled. “It does match my luck.”

“Hey,” Nino elbowed his ribs. “No more of that. You’re the black cat, now, bringing bad luck to whoever crosses your path.”

Juleka smiled, too, and passed him the jacket. That seemed to be the end of the discussion. These people were his team, now, the ones who would help him trick his father and win this thing.

Adrien couldn’t remember ever feeling this content.

“No, not black cat.” Adrien grinned down at the costume. “Chat Noir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Adrien and Nino's bromance, but I promise we're getting more Marinette next chapter.
> 
> Title comes from the Twenty-one pilots' song Stressed Out. Qute from Take Shelter by Years & Years.


	4. All the right words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette is unsure about competing, but maybe she only needs a little encouragement from two very different sources.

_I must be tough, I must behave, I must keep fighting. Don't give it up._

Marinette Dupain-Cheng woke up to the sound of footsteps somewhere in her studio. They were soft and slow, accompanied by a melodic humming that she recognized as Alya in her morning cheer. For the first time that week, the fashion student let herself enjoy the comfort of her bed and of her friend’s presence.

“You got a classic kind of crazy,” Alya sang as quietly as she probably could. “But you know just who you are…”

Marinette giggled against her pillow. Sunshine filtered through her rosy curtains, washing her in its warm glow, and she felt happy, satisfied with this moment in a way she hadn’t been in quite some time.

She loved her life, despite all the anxiety that her uncertain future still caused. She had a family that cared for her, a stable income and friends who were prepared to fight the _mayor_ if it meant helping her.

And Adrien.

She felt ridiculous for thinking like this, but it was undeniable that something inside her lit up when he was around. While at first it had been anger, now the sensation had shifted into a lighter feeling, a sort of giddiness that started at her stomach and radiated through her core.

Marinette kicked at her sheets, burying herself further into the mattress.

“Girl, you’re ridiculous.” Alya wasn’t singing anymore and, instead, observed her friend from an opening at the curtains that separated Marinette’s bed from the rest of the studio. “Is this about Adrien again?”

“It’s too early for you to be reading my mind,” Marinette pouted.

Alya approached the bed with a sigh and sat down next to the lump Marinette had curved herself into.

“Sorry, it’s a power I can’t seem to shut off,” she replied, leaning down to plant a kiss against Marinette’s hair. “Also, it’s eleven. It’s officially no longer too early for anything.”

She laughed when the lump simply curled tighter into itself.

Days like this weren’t all that common for them. Since leaving High School, life has taken a turn for the erratic, and lazy weekends soon became a thing of the past. Most times, the two felt like their friendship had to work around their schedules.

Thank the universe for social media.

“I brought croissants from your parents’…” Alya singsonged, poking Marinette on the shoulder.

When she was once again met with silence, Alya decided to stay quiet for a moment, too.

From outside came the sound of cars passing by, life bustling in the streets of busy Paris. Under it, however, birds chirped in the undertones of a spring that was just starting to unfold. It reminded Alya of something she’d heard a long time ago, back when her first romantic disillusion had felt like a world of heartbreak.

This too will pass.

And just like the coldness of winter was starting to give way to the vivid colors of this new season, there was now hope for MIRACULOUS.

If only she could get Marinette out of bed.

“Ok, enough,” Alya stated, getting up. “You either get up or I’m calling Adrien so he can see you in all your bed haired glory.”

Marinette shoot up, eyes instantly wide and fearful. “You wouldn’t!”

Alya fixed her with an unimpressed stare.

“You know better than to doubt me, Mari,” she reprimanded, already shifting to help Marinette up. “C’mon, I have a latte that is too sweet and getting colder.”

Marinette allowed herself to be pulled away from bed.

“Croissants and coffee?” she asked and creased her brows in suspicion. “What do you want?”

Alya snickered. “Nothing that bad, I promise.”

Marinette grimaced as she neared the counter; there was another box with two éclairs next to the croissants. It was a bad omen in itself, but when she turned to look at Alya, she realized her friend was wearing work-out clothes: leggings and a loose crop top over her training bra.

Why had she gotten up, again?

“You’re dancing,” Marinette pointed out as dread settled on the pit of her stomach. She had to put down the croissant. “This is worse than I thought.”

Alya rolled her eyes. “I came to dance with you. Big deal.”

“You woke me up to dance with me. That means you’re excited!” Marinette pulled her bangs away from her forehead, tilting her head back. “That never ends well for me.”

The redhead huffed, affronted. “Name one time!”

“Last spring. You insisted on meeting Nino at one of his parties and I ended up in jail.”

“Not my fault,” Alya argued. “I gave you a tic tac and the guy thought it was drugs.”

Marinette glared at her. “You told me to take some candy and relax. We were at a _rave_.”

“He did give you his number, though.” Alya stole the croissant from her, taking a bite. “Did you ever call him?”

“He _arrested_ me,” Marinette grumbled. Alya was usually a very rational person, but she tended to lose some of her filters when it came to the opposite sex. “Just because you’re into that…”

“Hey!” Alya interrupted, lifting a hand. “Do not kink shame me. I know all your secrets.” She smiled, and the mischievousness was back. “And I’m about to know one more.”

She unlocked her phone and slid it across the counter to Marinette.

It was an application for the break-dancing contest under the name of Chat Noir. He had applied as part of the MIRACULOUS crew, but, from the profile picture, Marinette couldn’t remember ever seeing a boy with hair that messy or with a tattoo like that.

It was a black cat, she could tell, probably tribal. It reminded her of Juleka’s work, but it was impossible to say by a mere pixelated picture.

“Someone entered under an alias?”

Alya nodded.

“Not only an alias. They went full secret identity on us.” She listed, “Painted-on mask, themed costume, even the email account is under CN. It’s the perfect idea!”

Understanding washed through Marinette, the sensation akin to the cold breezes of late fall as alarm coiled inside her.

“Alya, no,” she moaned in frustration.

“Alya, yes!” the girl replied, before her face scrunched up in distaste. “Ugh, I’ve spent too long on the internet.”

Marinette picked up an éclair and nibbled nervously at it.

She and Alya had spent the better part of two days discussing the possibility of competing in the contest, and while the journalist had opted out, Marinette’s choice not to apply wasn’t met with similar acceptance.

“You know that Chloé will find a way to sabotage the whole thing, if she finds out I’m part of it.”

“Which is why she won’t know!” Alya heaved a sigh. “We need one more person before we can enter the crew. Twelve, minimum.”

“I haven’t battled in almost a year,” Marinette replied, picking apart her food. “Alyx and Kim have applied and maybe the newbie will surprise us.”

The redhead stared blankly at her.

“Kim’s energy is great, but he has none of your grace, and Alyx can freeze like no one else, but she lacks creativity.” She took the destroyed éclair from Marinette’s hands. “And there’s a very simple reason why you’re gonna do this, Mari.”

Marinette looked up at Alya, afraid of what she would say next.

“Why?”

Alya smiled, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Because you want to.”

* * *

However well the day had begun, Marinette’s luck didn’t stretch into her afternoon. After convincing Alya to drop the subject and enjoying some quality down time, she’d been called into ESMOD.

Her advisor was a strict Colombian woman whose strong opinions and sharp skills had gotten her a top position in the Parisian fashion scene. Camila Marquez was firm, but usually not unjust, so it was with understandable agitation that Marinette made her way to the school.

Where she’d found herself in a meeting with none other than Chloé Bourgeois.

“Why are you doing this, Chloé?” she asked once they were alone, glaring down at her hands.

Chloé stood to the side, icy blue eyes obscured by reflective shades. She had been strangely reserved during their time with Madame Marquez, but her presence was alarming in and of itself.

“What, pray tell, _am_ I doing?” she shot back, without turning away from the window.

Marinette sighed, shifting in her seat.

“You came to my workplace,” she begun, “after showing up at the academy and getting it closed. You’re certainly doing something.”

Chloé hummed; not an agreement, but not a defense either.

“I wanted a dress. I wouldn’t have come, had I known you were working with Madame Marquez.” She paused for a moment. “Alas, here we are.”

Marinette lifted her gaze to watch the blonde, who pressed a fingertip to the glass, as if tracing the sunlight that reflected off it.

“You are not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

Chloé’s laughter was humorless, mocking.

“Have I ever?”

It was why they had fought so much while in school, why they still growled at each other’s names. To think it had all started with ballet classes and a spoiled little girl who didn’t understand that she could be denied something.

“And why is that?” Marinette spit out, and the flash of anger in her tone did not go unnoticed.

Chloé finally turned to face her.

“You think you can turn on your charm and everyone will fall over themselves for you, don’t you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” She took off her glasses, fixing Marinette with a hard glare. “Well, that is not how life works.”

Marinette snickered. She tried to hold onto her civility, but the derision in Chloé’s eyes was almost too much to stomach.

“Is that what this is about? You want to teach me a lesson?”

Chloé moved closer, to which Marinette responded by standing up. They measured each other.

“I’m trying to show people who you really are, deep down. Everyone thinks you are this nice little girl who just wants to save the world. Well, you can’t.” Chloé put her glasses back on. “Just try and save yourself.”

With that, she stepped around Marinette and towards the exit.

“I didn’t think you were one for threats.” Marinette stared out the window, head held high.

Behind her, Chloé hummed once again.

“Yes…” She heard the door open. “But I didn’t think I would still be dealing with you. I guess we’ve both been proven wrong.”

When Madame Marquez reentered the room, two minutes later, she had tea with her and a very knowing expression.

“I take you know the Bourgeois girl,” she pointed out in her heavy accent. Marinette nodded. “Will it be a problem?”

Marinette accepted the cup of tea, taking a sip of it to gather herself.

“I hope not, Madame.”

Camila Marquez smiled into her own cup. She looked thoughtful, and this only served to worsen the anxiety that knotted Marinette’s throat.

“The correct answer would have been no, Marinette, but I appreciate your honesty.”

The woman must have felt that she’d been properly chastised, because she sat down at her desk and pulled out the folder with the preliminary designs for the next show. Given the urgency of Chloé’s request, Marinette knew she wouldn’t be given much time to work on her own outline.

If she wanted her designs to be considered, she had to move fast.

 _This is your opening_ , she tried to tell herself, _not your ruin_.

But the blonde’s words still rang in her head, the threat of making this situation harder than it should have been.

Marinette wished things could have been different between them. She wished they had never met, so that they wouldn’t have turned into such complete opposites of each other.

While Chloé seemed to believe herself superior to others, Marinette had always been insecure; while she’d expected people to attend to her every desire, Marinette had tried her very best in everything. And though the fashion student could see where these beliefs would have come from, she couldn’t forgive them.

“Madame Marquez, thank you for this chance,” Marinette said as she gathered her things. She set down her cup. “I’ll have my designs ready by Monday.”

The other lifted a hand to delay her exit. “I accepted you as an advisee because I saw potential in you. Do not prove me wrong.”

At a loss for words, Marinette simply nodded and almost knocked a lamp in her hurry to get away.

Once outside ESMOD, she pulled out her cell, dialing Alya’s number. “You win,” she said in response to her friend’s greeting, “I’ll compete.”

Marinette was going to prove Chloé wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m gonna give Marinette and Chloé a Hamilton and Burr dynamic and no one is gonna stop me.  
> I don’t mean to justify Chloé’s actions here. I just want her to have her own kind of logic to her cruelty, because while I’m a firm believer that girls can be anything they want, including bad guys, I also hate characters that have no thought process. Cruelty comes from ignorance and messed up world views, so that is what I’m giving my villains.


	5. Only fools do what I do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First night of battles and someone has caught Chat Noir's eye.

_Imma dance my heart out 'til the dawn._

It didn’t take long for Adrien to realize that he hadn’t really thought things through. It did, however, take some time for him to officially regret letting Nino talk him into it.

To be precise, it took him a week.

“Why is the music so loud?” he asked as they entered the club. The smell of smoke and sweat made his throat close up, though that might have been his anxiety as well. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

Nino laughed at him, apparently unaffected by the chaos that surrounded them. “You get used to it.”

Adrien didn’t want to get used to it. He wanted to be back on his friend’s apartment, where they could dance without a thousand eyes on them and where the only odor came from forgotten socks or burned toast.

He knew it was too late for these thoughts. According to Alya, the crew had exactly twelve dancers. They would be starting duels soon, which meant that there was no time for him to be replaced. MIRACULOUS was stuck with him, for better or for worse.

“I gotta scram, before they realize we got here together.” Nino put a hand on his shoulder, “Good luck.”

Being alone didn’t make him feel any worse than Adrien had expected. If the crowd back in the hangar had seemed oppressive, he didn’t even know how to describe this one. People danced without any concern for personal space, elbows and heels and hair ungoverned as they accompanied the rhythm to the best of their abilities.

Adrien sort of wanted to go home.

And then the lights changed, illuminating the previously empty stage.

“It’s every b-boy for themselves tonight!” a woman called out to the audience, her hair a bubblegum pink that reminded him of Alyx. “You’re gonna be great, guys, but first we need to put down some rules.”

A new spotlight appeared on her opposite side, showing a man completely in black. He looked from the woman to the crowd, then to his microphone, and warned with a sigh, “Don’t be idiots.”

Despite her partner’s disinterest, the woman continued to smile, her teeth almost blindingly white against her dark skin.

“No touching, no cursing, no stealing rounds unless you’re tagged in,” she listed. “Sign up for a round, join the group we assign. Plagg?”

“You get two rounds. If I touch your shoulder, you’re out.” He surveyed the crowd with a glare. “If Tikki touches your shoulder, you must have tried to start trouble, so,” And here he smirked, “Run.”

Plagg bowed towards the woman, and she stepped closer to the middle of the stage.

“Contestants,” Tikki pointed to the right, to something out of Adrien’s sight, “pick your poison!”

* * *

Adrien soon discovered that the presenters had been indicating where to sign up for rounds. He imagined they were trying to mix it up, stop the crews from working together since the beginning in order to keep their dances unrehearsed.

From his limited knowledge of battles, he knew they were supposed to be like debates. One side goes, then the other responds; not hostile, but antagonistic enough that it entertained.

He sincerely couldn’t imagine the petite, pink-haired Tikki in that environment.

His battle wouldn’t be until later in the night, though, which left him with just enough time to regret every decision in his life that had lead him to this.

With Nino nowhere in sight and Alya almost _everywhere_ , Adrien found himself burying himself deeper into the crowd and closer to the stage. He didn’t want to test his disguise just yet and especially not with someone who did investigations for a living.

After the first two battles, he felt himself grow confident. He could do this. Those moves, those spins, that rhythm; he might be inexperienced, but what he lacked in nights out, he made up for in time spent training in his room.

His father had thought he’d stopped Adrien from learning such uncouth things, but he couldn’t have been more wrong.

As the music died down for a moment and the winners joined the crowd, two groups started making their way up. Which was when he felt someone stumble onto his side.

The girl wore a polka dotted top and baggy black pants, but what caught his attention was the red spread across her complexion, obscuring the finer details of her features. He could tell she was wearing make-up, as well, probably contour and something to alter the width of her eyes or the shape of her mouth, but it did nothing to alter one fact.

She was beautiful.

And familiar, somehow.

“Chat Noir,” she breathed out, almost too quiet in the mess of the club.

Before Adrien could do more than widen his eyes at her, the girl has used her grip on his arm to propel herself up and onto the stage.

“Oh, dear,” Tikki exclaimed after a moment. The softness of her gaze settled on one of the participants, a girl who couldn’t be more than thirteen. “Are you ready to knock these guys off their feet?”

She had been doing this with every new group. One person would be singled out to rile up the audience, probably so they could start breaking the impersonality of the contest. Big brands liked the marketing of human interest stories.

The girl – Manon – smiled back. “They won’t see me coming!”

Adrien laughed along with the crowd.

Their mirth didn’t last long.

Manon was the second to go. She had a good stance, but Adrien could tell her arms were shaking, most likely because she was nervous. It didn’t mean her routine was bad, but it did make her less stable, and he could tell from the very start that she was going to lose balance if she tried a handstand.

What happened was worse.

She’d only finished her go when one of the boys from the opposing group stepped forward. And laughed.

He proceeded to copy her moves, upping the scale. It was quite obvious that he was trying to show her up, make himself look good in comparison to Manon’s abilities. It made Adrien’s blood boil, but he could do nothing as he watched the man flip closer to the girl and tag her on the forehead.

Mortified, but still full of bravado, Manon waved him away and shimmied to center stage.

She was shaken by it, however, and that’s when the mistakes begun. She lost rhythm for a moment and it threw her off. Her next freeze was supposed to be a pike, but the hand that should have stayed firm on the ground slipped.

Manon dropped her second hand back, just in time for someone to grab onto her falling feet, holding her in an arch, before giving her the impulse to flip into a standing position.

There was a moment of silence when even the music stopped, as if the entire club was holding its breath. Then, the disguised girl extended her hand to Manon with a smile.

“Ladybug, everyone,” Tikki announced as Manon pulled the other closer.

Ladybug laughed, using their joined hands to twirls the teen back to their group.

_Sometimes I go off (I go off), I go hard (I go hard), get what's mine (take what's mine). I'm a star (I'm a star), cause I slay (slay)._

Adrien couldn’t take his eyes off of her. It wasn’t exactly because of her moves; he’d seen plenty of videos with the most difficult stances possible, even tried some himself. No, there was something about the energy in her, the assertiveness that told him she was going to win this battle through more than just showing off.

Ladybug smiled through a one-handed air flare, body spinning into a blur of red and black.

For some reason, the thought that he should have been there with her wouldn’t leave Adrien’s mind. He had never danced with anyone but Nino, but he’d also never felt the need to find other partners.

Still, while his friend was great, this girl could _move_.

_I slay (hey), I slay (okay), I slay (okay)._

She shuffled with the music, eyes fixed on the boy who’d bothered Manon. The rest of his group booed and laughed and cheered, but he remained with a carefully blank expression, more truly aggressive than any of the others.

With an aerial cartwheel, Ladybug crossed the stage to him and tapped him on his forehead.

“That girl is crazy!” Adrien heard someone yell from behind him. He grinned.

“That girl is awesome.”

* * *

“Who _is_ she?”

Nino had joined him after his battle, when he could mix with the dozens of contestants that approached Chat Noir with questions and congratulations. Adrien was happy that his own dance had gone so well, but he couldn’t get his mind off Ladybug.

“I don’t know, dude,” Nino replied. “But Alya is in love with her. I’m in danger of being replaced, here.”

Adrien snorted.

“I’ve seen you two kiss,” he pointed out. “The only danger you guys are in is of an unexpected pregnancy.”

Nino choked on what must have been his own tongue.

“Wow, your father is right. One night of rebellion and you’re already making sex jokes.”

The blond leaned against the wall, careful not to jostle any of the lighting equipment. Nino had gotten them away from the crowd so they could talk without being seen, but it was also nice to be away from the deafening music.

“That was a sex _reference_ ,” Adrien corrected smugly. “I like to be taken seriously when I complain about your relationship.”

Nino shook his head at him. “I don’t want you talking about my sex life. Ever.”

“Is it that bad?” Adrien grimaced in fake concern. “You know what they say, if you don’t have a good partner, then you better have a good ha–“

“Oh, please stop,” his friend interrupted, horrified.

“Ok, ok, I’m done.”

Nino ran a hand through his face, knocking his glasses slightly askew.

“Why are we even friends?” He exhaled heavily. “Anyway, the girl.”

“Ladybug.” Adrien motioned for him to continue.

“She is part of the MIRACULOUS crew, it seems. I did think she was…”

“Familiar?” Nino nodded. “Yeah, I thought so, too. Did you mention what we were going to do to anyone other than Juleka? Because it’s odd that she would think of it too, isn’t it?”

Nino scratched his chin, clearly unsure.

It was rather strange that someone would choose to enter the same competition as him under such similar conditions. The paint, the clothes, the piercing on her lip. He didn’t know how much of it was fake, but it all just looked too coincidental.

And she had acted like she knew him. Or at least of him.

He wanted to tell Nino this. It felt like an important clue to understanding who the girl might be, but he just– couldn’t. Adrien wanted this to himself, the fact that she had singled him out in a crowd, just before going up. It felt significant, somehow.

“I think we should keep an eye on her,” Nino stated. “It might be nothing, but if people already knew someone was coming in costume…”

Adrien nodded. He probably should have been more worried.

“She was great, though.”

Nino smiled. “Yeah, she really put that guy in his place. I thought Plagg was going to sick Tikki on him, for a moment there.”

They laughed, both imagining how that would have gone.

It was easy to forget about the party and even about the competition when they were like this. Almost no amount of pressure could survive the comfort of Nino’s presence.

“We have to go back down, don’t we?” Adrien asked after a beat of silence.

Nino shrugged. He didn’t have his headphones, but he kept reaching up to play with them. Adrien knew he was really anxious about the whole Ladybug situation.

“I thought you didn’t like the party.”

“I don’t,” Adrien conceded. “But you do. I’ll be fine here. And it’s not like I can stay much longer. My dad is negligent, but not stupid.”

The DJ cracked a smile at this. “Text me when you get home?”

They fist bumped.

“I’ll be fine,” Adrien repeated in a tired tone, trying to defuse the tension.

Nino stared at him with narrowed eyes. “You know, for the first time, I actually kind of believe you.”

Adrien let the elevator door close behind Nino before he moved towards the fire escape. They weren’t that high up, and he was feeling like getting a bit of fresh air before going home. The club must have once been some kind of fabric, because it was rare to have such architecture in the middle of Paris.

The cold breeze that hit his cheeks made him glad that he’d borrowed a cat-eared hoody from Juleka. Maybe it was the Agreste in him, but he’d enjoyed coming up with costumes for Chat Noir. Never in his life had he worn such formless clothes.

He would have laughed about this, hadn’t it been for the sound of a door banging shut one floor down.

Adrien crouched down, trying to see through the crevices on the floor.

And there she stood, still in twin pigtails, the red ribbons fluttering in the wind. Ladybug had a red jacket on, in the sort of waterproof material that he’d seen Alya wear, and her eyes were closed, face turned towards the breeze.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she muttered to herself.

It struck Adrien that although he’d been thinking about her for most of the night, he didn’t know much about this girl. She’d seemed confident while dancing, but her brows drew together uneasily now.

“Of course you can,” he spoke, before he had really thought it through.

Ladybug’s eyes shot up, searching his voice. It was probably more difficult for her to see him, so Adrien jumped over the rail of the stairs and fell to the landing below.

Her gasp was _cute_ , and that probably meant he was in trouble.

“Were you spying on me?” she asked fiercely, and her eyes once again reminded him of someone, somewhere, that was just out of reach.

“I was here first, my lady.” He bowed down. “Is it really a surprise to find a cat in the fire escape?”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, but he could tell her exasperation wasn’t real.

“You did well tonight,” she commented, leaning back onto the railing. “I can’t remember ever seeing so many headspins in person.”

Adrien chuckled, caught by surprise. “I have never seen anyone dance like you, at all.”

She blinked up at him.

“Is that a compliment?”

“How could it be anything else?” He knew he was being intense. He could feel it in the way his chest tightened, in the diminished space between them, but he didn’t want to let go of this moment. “I don’t know what makes you doubt yourself, but what you did for that girl, the way you moved…”

Ladybug swallowed, her eyes flickering from his and then to her hands. She giggled, a cracked little thing.

“I guess I defeated the purpose of the disguise, calling so much attention to myself.”

Adrien smiled too. She was polite in it, but he could recognize when a girl was trying to move on from a romantic overture.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “but you literally _rocked_ my world.” To emphasize his meaning, he rocked his hips from side to side.

Ladybug snorted. “That was awful.”

Adrien grinned with her, suddenly very satisfied that he had decided to compete, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update. As always, life gets in the way. Old readers will understand.  
> Title from Fools by Troye Sivan, quote from Lush Life by Zara Larsson and the song playing as Marinette dances is Formation by Beyoncé, in what I imagine would be a remix for bboying.  
> Also, I know Plagg was going to be Adrien's cat, but I was writing the presenters and suddenly they were Tikki and Plagg, so that changed.  
> Thank you for everyone who is supporting this fic with kudos and comments and even just hits. You guys are amazing.


End file.
